Extra Cargo
by monsterball
Summary: He silently prayed that he still had thirty-something boxes to heave up the dormitory floors, so he wouldn't end up running into her and fumbling through his brain for the right words to say. He was awkward enough as it was. AU, Cloud/Tifa.


This was done as a character-study on Cloud that somehow turned into an AU story involving cargo-work, feelings, and relationship-studies between him, Aerith, Zack, and of course, Tifa. The title is deliberate, at least, and I'm sure you'll get it. I didn't try to run too deeply with it.

Also, why is fanfiction so often frowned upon? I like using it as practice for character-work. Cloud's an interesting character too. He was a bit hard to figure out (evidenced by the many rant-pages I spewed out, trying to figure out the real-real him) but, well...hopefully I at least got the "simplistic and awkward" part of him right.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FFVII in any way.

* * *

He heaved the boxes onto a cart and exhaled in relief, wiping the sweat and sticky humidity from his brow. His boss said that this was the busiest time of the year, when other students like him were moving in and pleading for their packaged belongings to arrive at their rooms, and it was his job to make sure their items got delivered properly. He didn't mind the labor underneath the hot summer sun; he was grateful that he had the job to earn him the extra money to keep for himself and for his tuition.

After all, he was on his own, with a father gone from the traces of the world and a mother in her grave when he was eighteen. They left him the house and some money to keep him alive, but that didn't mean he didn't have his episodes of utter confusion about the world along with his moments of depression.

But he would work hard, because he promised his mother that he would. He grabbed another box and lifted it onto the cart. There were times though, when he grumbled about the work and…

"Nice hair," a kid (probably younger than him) (probably a freshman) (probably an idiot) snickered as he walked by.

…having to deal with the unbearable amount of people. He narrowed his eyes and held back a comment_ judging by your comment, you've the IQ of a rat and can't think of any other retort other than commenting on my hair_ because his boss – _big black guy that looked like he would rip heads off_—would reprimand him for it.

"Strife! Lockhart! Get movin'!"

"On it!" a bright voice rings out.

He watched her as she strode forward and grabbed one of the boxes from the pile of twenty-something. He blinked and shook his head before heading over to grab more cargo.

He was an idiot, and he was pretty sure it was because of her. She showed up for training procedure at the beginning of year like he did, but she earned snarky remarks from the other guys in the student-business because _she's a girl; what's she going to do, be our mascot and get more guys on to the job ; wonder what's under that shirt of hers_ –remarks that made him wrinkle his nose in disgust and inwardly roll his eyes. But they all snapped their mouths shut when she hefted up three boxes of heavy cargo with ease, and they weren't the only ones that let out a little _woah, shit_ when she dumped the boxes onto the cart and strolled out for early deliverance without looking back.

He remembered watching the swish of her long dark hair and the bright orange hat sitting on her head, all of the sunshine and heat beating down on her arms as she wiped away a long streak of sweat on her forehead and rolled up the baggy cargo pants to her knees, and he remembered that all he could think was _wow._

Staring was his strong suit when it came to her, it seemed. Sometimes she would catch him looking at her like the idiot he was and she'd send him a small smile, causing him to turn away in embarrassment and grab a couple more boxes to deliver out of distraction. He was grateful for those days when there was too much extra cargo in his pile. It saved him from awkward run-ins with her. It wasn't like he didn't want to talk to her, he just wasn't sure if she wanted to talk to him. He returned to the front store to grab a couple more boxes, grumbling to himself about the haggard old father that chastised him for mishandling the boxes. A hand touched his shoulder and he nearly jumped. He turned and saw her looking at him, her wine-red colored eyes bright. He gulped. What was he supposed to say?

_Hi, I'm Cloud. You're Tifa, right? How's your first day going?(too formal)_

_Hey. How's the weather treating you?(what the fuck, who talks about the weather)_

_Need a hand with something? These boxes aren't too bad. (that might come off as too rude...)_

…_Uh._

"…Uh," he said. He smacked himself mentally. She laughed a little bit(a part of him hopes that she finds his stupidity endearing) (but a part of him tells himself that she's just a nice person overall and is the type to be cheerful and kind about anything). "Do you need help?" she said, gesturing towards the boxes of student cargo in the truck. "I'm done with my load. Seems like you got assigned a bit more though."

"Yeah," he said, nodding. She smiled at him again and it made his stomach flip-flop in ways he didn't know it could.

As they walked towards the truck together, he thought to himself, he didn't mind the summer heat and the snappy customers so much anymore.

-o-

After moving-in season was over, he didn't see her as much. A part of him didn't mind because he had school to worry about and he couldn't let all of his hard work down. Failure scared the living shit out of him.

Sometimes though, he saw her in the library, studying hard like he was. He'd peek over the cubicles and see the familiar sight of long black hair trailing down her slim shoulders and a furrow of frustration settled lightly on her face. He could never work up the awkward courage to ask her to sit with him, so he always just sat back down and pushed the image of her face out of his mind to focus on Physics 178.

But most of the time he saw her walking around campus surrounded by friends—mostly guys, he noted, with a slight twang of jealousy(not enough to make him crazy, because he wasn't like that) (just enough to make him feel a little uncomfortable) —and he sometimes made eye contact with her. She would give him a small wave back, and he—

—_tipped his head upwards in recognition (oh lord no, that was something for guys, not girls like her) _

_gave her a small and friendly wave (shit, what kind of pansy of a guy does that)_

_smiled back at her (nope, too cheesy; plus, I'd probably end up sending some awkward lopsided grin, not a normal smile)_

-would avert his eyes, awkward and unsure how to react. He would mentally slap himself back and forth for being so dumb, and he would hear her friends laugh. He wondered bitterly, if they were laughing at him. Probably at his hair. All of the guys made fun of him for that—some meaner than others, some more light-hearted than others—teasing him that it looked like the tail-end of a yellow duck's butt.

He wondered as he sat at his desk, twirling a pencil between his fingers in frustration at the physics worksheet, if she thought his hair looked dumb like that too.

-o-

It wasn't like he didn't know how to talk; he wasn't that hopeless of a person. He just didn't know what to say at the right moments, and that was what made people think that he fumbled for words too often. He wanted to shake everyone by the shoulders exasperatedly and tell them, "I can speak to you. Just hold a conversation with me for longer than five minutes!"

A voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Yo man! What do you use to keep up those ridiculous spikes?"

He looked up and saw a man with spiky black hair leaning on the chair in front of him. _Hey, this guy sits in front of me in Physics. He seems…alright. Maybe. _"Tar," he replied, straight-faced. The man looked at him with an incredulous look, but he noticed the slight upturn on Cloud's face he burst out laughing. "Seems like you do have a sense of humor after all! Why do you seem so tight wrung all the time? You walk around like you're a knot or something."

Cloud frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" Did this guy watch him or something?

"Like you're always nervous or somethin'," the man said, making looping gestures. "You need to relax some more. Don't be so coiled up. Y'know?"

He blinked. Was that what he seemed like all the time? "Oh. Sorry, I guess."

"Say," the man said. "I never got your name."

"Cloud," he said. "Cloud Strife."

"Nice to meet you Cloud," the man said, grinning from ear to ear. He extends his hand. "I'm Zack Fair."

He shook the man's hand and thought, _this guy's kind of weird. _

But as they walked back towards the dorms laughed together about their respective backwater-country-hometowns—"Reactor usually means there's nothing else out there!" Zack said, cracking up— Cloud smiled and thought to himself, _maybe the people here aren't so bad after all._

_-_-o_-_

He still didn't understand why he couldn't say anything normal around Tifa.

He didn't know what it was. He could joke around with Zack pretty easily—_"Cloud man, what's with your hair? It looks like a duck's butt." "Yeah, well. Better duck-butt than a hedgehog's ass." Zack choked on his water and looked at him, offended. "My hair doesn't look like a hedgehog's ass!" Cloud put his face in his hands and let the laughter roll off his shoulders- _so what was up with instant-idiot-mode around her? Maybe it was the body perfume that she used. It always smelled like citrus—really fresh, and kind of bright like her. Maybe that was making him dizzy, or maybe he was even allergic to it.

He shook his head. That would be really stupid, if he were allergic to her body spray. And really sad. He sighed. Zack probably wouldn't have any trouble talking to her. Scratch that, Zack would probably jump the opportunity to talk to her. He snorted at the thought. His friend had a problem for girls. A really, really kind of pathetic problem for girls. But he shouldn't be talking—he couldn't even muster out the ability to properly talk to _just one_.

"Cloud?"

He jumped in his seat, startled. That was definitely her. Her voice was different than a lot of other girls that he had heard talked. It was clear, but kind of breezy. Husky? Is that the right word? He looks up, and sees her looking at him, her lips upturned in a slight smile. He tried not to look her in the eyes; they were such a strange, wine-red color, and he felt like if he ended up looking at them he'd end up staring at her like an idiot. Again.

She smiled. "It's been a while since I've seen you. I didn't know that you studied in the library too."

_Holy crud, say something Strife. Say anything. _"Uh, hey." _…you, might be the most hopeless person in the world. _She giggled. _Look, she's laughing at you. Even she knows you're hopeless. _He cleared his throat. "And. The library's nice. It's quiet. And not a lot of loud people come in here. Because…it's a library." _..._

"Yeah," she said, smiling at him. _Oh. She didn't react to my stumble. ...Whew._"I like it here too."

"Well, uh. Do…" He can almost hear Zack egging him on—_"Come on, just ask her to sit with you. 'S not like you're asking her to get in bed with you, geez." _"…you want to sit here? I mean, I know working on your own can get kind of boring sometimes."

Her face lit up in a way that made his fingers tingle with the shy want of holding her face. "That'd be great! Let me go get my stuff." She turned around and he watched the swish of her long dark hair trail behind her. She was graceful, but not in a kind of way that made him think of ballet dancers and twirling dresses. Graceful in a way like she knows what she's doing. And he thought, the way she walked was kind of pretty.

When she came back, her arms laden with books, she shot him another smile. "Thanks for letting me sit with you. It does get kind of boring by myself sometimes." He opens his mouth—

—_You can sit with me anytime_ (_god no, that's too cheesy)_

_No problem babe (…no. Just no.)_

_I know what you mean. (…)_

"I know what you mean," he said, smiling back at her. "I get bored by myself too." The grin on her face widened and she looked back down at her textbook, focusing on her reading. Her long black hair cascaded down her shoulders and framed her face, her bangs hiding her forehead and her eyes turned downward. The corners of her mouth still turned upward in a slight smile, and it makes him feel warm inside, a kind of warm he didn't want to let get cold.

And he hoped, as he flipped through his physics textbook, that his library visits would be like that for a long time.

-o-

"Hi. You're Cloud, aren't you?"

He looked up from his textbook and saw a girl with emerald-eyes looking at him. He blinked. He has never seen anyone with eyes like hers. They were dark-green, and they almost look like they sparkled, twinkling in the sunlight like small green fish-scales underwater.

"Yeah," he said. "Who're you?"

"Not too familiar with formalities, are you?" she said, laughing. She extended a hand. "I'm Aerith."

"Oh. Sorry. Uh. How do you know me?"

"You work at the Trucking Company on campus, right? I've known Barrett for a long time. Sometimes he talks about you. He says you zone out a lot," she said, putting her hand to her mouth, giggling. "I thought that was kind of funny for a college guy."

He blushed from embarrassment. "Well…geez. That's awkward. Didn't know Barrett liked to stare at people and watch them from afar. That's...creepy."

She laughed again. "You're funny. Well, I have to go. I'll see you later, Cloud!"

As she walked off, he tried to ignore the warm feeling in his stomach. It was different from the feeling he got when he was around Tifa. But what was that supposed to mean?

-o-

He saw Aerith a lot. She would catch him in between classes, at the library, at cafes, and even in his dorm lobby. _Is she …following me or something? Why do I see her everywhere? _She would ask him a lot of questions, and they were mainly all about him. He asked her one time, why she asked about him so much and not about other things, and she just smiled. "I just want to get to know you better, underneath that funny little head of yours. You think a lot, you know? I think you should talk more."

He thinks a lot? He thought he was too spacey. But she wanted to get to know him more? That made him feel…special. He liked that feeling. And then one day, she slipped her hand into his. He whipped out his own, startled, and looked at her with wide eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I like you, Cloud," she said, smiling. She took his hand in hers. "There's nothing wrong with holding hands with someone you like, right?"

She liked him? Why does she like him? Confused, he let her hold his hand and they walked down the path in front of the library. Does he like her? Her hand is small and delicate in his. He thinks of her emerald-eyes and the way that they sparkled in the sunlight. She was really pretty. And kind. She had a certain air to her—bright, clear, in a straightforward kind of way. He liked that about her. So...maybe he does like her.

-o-

"Hey Cloud, who's that chick you're going out with now?"

He blinked at the question. Is that what was happening? He's dating her now? "Her name's Aerith. Why ask?"

"What do you mean why ask? You're going out with a girl! I never thought that I'd see this day come. And you landed a nice one too. Any chance I can talk to her one day?" Zack said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Oh. Yeah, sure. I'll introduce you two sometime."

Zack frowned. "Hey man, do you even like her?"

"What? Yeah, I do. Why do you ask that?"

"I mean, you were pretty hung up over that Tifa chick. What about her?"

He blushed. "I…uh…"

He still saw her at the library, and they still sat together to work. She would always make him so nervous (nervous in the way where his stomach was turning, his palms were sweating and he would stumble for the right words in his mind) every time she walked up to him and tapped his shoulder to say hello with a smile before he sat down. But she was being more distant recently, talking a little less and smiling a little less. He frowned at that thought. Did he do something wrong? He hoped he didn't. He would hate himself if he made her sad.

Zack chuckled. "You're one awkward kid. Maybe that's what the girls like about you. They like the goofy type."

Cloud snorted. "If I'm goofy, then what're you?"

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Zack said, laughing. He jutted his thumb and pointed at himself. "Obviously you get a portion of the ladies with your goofiness, but I get all of them in the end with my charming looks."

"Whatever," Cloud said, rolling his eyes and grinning.

Zack started to talk about football and Cloud zoned out a bit. He didn't speak football.

But really—was Tifa okay?

-o-

"Zack, this is Aerith. Aerith, this is Zack."

He watched the two shake hands. The sparkle in Aerith's eye was a little different—maybe a little lighter on the green in her eyes? He looked at Zack. He was looking at her differently too, and it wasn't the same way he looked at other girls.

He looked down at his hand and thought of Aerith's small and delicate hand in his. It didn't seem to fit right in his hand anymore. He looked up again. Maybe these two were supposed to be together. That probably made more sense.

Couples were weird.

-o-

"Hey Cloud," Zack said, scratching his head. "I don't know where to start, but…"

"Just ask her out. Please."

"What? But aren't you..?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I'm pretty sure we never were. I really don't mind."

He watched the two the next day walk around, holding hands together, Aerith laughing at something Zack said and shoving him playfully. When Aerith caught his eye, she sent him a light smile that made him feel warm inside. But not warm inside that made him nervous and tingly in all the awkward ways. It was a kind of warm that told him it was alright, and she was fine with everything. A kind of warm that told him she still liked him, just in a different way.

He thought to himself, that maybe it was always like that, and it was probably the same for him too. He watched Aerith squeeze Zack's hand and he watched Zack laugh and throw his arm around her shoulder, happy.

He smiled. He liked those two a lot.

-o-

Tifa hadn't been around for three days.

He frowned, looking around the library, searching for her head of dark hair in one of the library cubicles. He saw one of her friends—Jessie? Was that it? –and walked over.

"Hey," he said. She looked up, squinting at him, and her face lit up in recognition. "Oh hey, you're Cloud! You work at the trucking company on campus with Tifa, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. Have you seen Tifa around? She hasn't been around for a while."

"Oh," she said, frowning. "I haven't seen her either. She's hasn't been on campus lately."

_Right, she lives off-campus with her aunt. She mentioned that before._"Did something happen?"

"I'm not really sure," she said, biting her lip. "She's not picking up her celphone either. I was going to go check up on her. Do you want to meet me on Friday to go visit her?"

"Yeah. I can do Friday. What's the address?"

Jessie scribbled it down a piece of scrap paper. He nodded thanks and she waved him good-bye.

Friday was in two days. He didn't blame Jessie for waiting; there was a huge exam on Thursday evening that everyone was freaking out over, and he was pretty sure Tifa was worried about it too. Maybe that's why she went home? But she wouldn't have been away for so long just to study (_"I like this campus," she said, smiling and twirling her pen between her fingers. "I wish I could live on campus in the dorms with everyone else, but it's so expensive." "It's okay," he said."I'm only living on-campus for the first semester. I'm staying in an apartment for the rest of my time here." She looked up at him and shot him a smile. He gulped. He...really liked it when she smiled at him.) _He glanced at the address. 7th Street. He sort of knew where that was—probably a twenty minute walk? He checked his watch: 3:24. He put the note in his pocket and headed towards the south end of campus. The little voice in his head that gave him all the unnecessary ideas about what to say and what to do around her (honestly, who the hell would tell him to call her "babe") told him _go visit her right now. Something's off and she needs to see someone. Perfect time to get to know her anyways, right? _

For once, he listened to that little voice in his head and let his feet carry him forward.

-o-

He didn't expect for her to greet him with red and watery eyes.

"C-Cloud?" she said, startled. "What're you doing here?"

He frowned. "Tifa…what's wrong?"

She bit her lower lip. "Do you want to come in?" He nodded and walked up the steps and into the house.

They sat down in the living room and silence greeted the conversation firsthand. He glanced at her. Her eyes were staring down at the floor, her hands underneath her legs, and her chin tilted downwards, her expression sad. He frowned. She wasn't supposed to be like this. She was usually cheerful and optimistic, and he liked that. He didn't like it when she was sad.

"My…father died," she said. His eyes widened. "He had cancer. And I thought that he would be able to make it, and maybe see me graduate in time, but…"

He got up and sat down next to her. She looked up at him, with watery eyes. "I'm sorry, Cloud, that you have to see me like this. It's just, with school and everything, that huge test tomorrow, and then him being sick, and then…" she trailed off. She shook her head. "I'm sorry."

Why was she apologizing? He looked down at the floor, thinking about what to say.

"My mom died last year," he said softly. He reached out hesitantly and gripped her hand. "You're doing better than I did though. I think I punched something too hard and fractured my finger. It was…kind of dumb, now that I think about it. I don't think my Mom would've like that."

She laughed between sobs. "Thanks, Cloud." She looked up at him. "Can you close your eyes for a second?"

He looked at her, puzzled, but he closed his eyes. Suddenly he felt two arms wrap around his neck and a small head bury into his chest, and the heaving sobs of her shuddered breath dampening his t-shirt. He wasn't sure what to do with his arms—

_—pat her on the back in comfort (no)_

_just tell her it'll be okay (no)_

_then hug her back, you nitwit_

—he let his arms wrap around her back and held her a little tighter, and she cries even harder. He didn't have any words to offer, but it wasn't out of awkward insecurity about what to say. They stayed like that for a moment, and he breathed in the warm scent of her hair. It still smelled like citrus.

"…Um," she said, leaning back to look at him. "Are you sure this is okay?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, with…your…girlfriend and everything…"

He blinked. Aerith? "Tifa, she's not my girlfriend."

"But you were holding hands and walking around together…?"

He took her hand in his. It was delicate on the outside, her knuckles smooth and untouched, but her palms were rough and calloused—just like his, he thought, with the fingertips rough from gripping wooden boxes and heaving them onto carts. He gripped her hand a little bit because he liked the feeling of her hand in his. She looked up at him, a light pink coloring her cheeks, a confused expression settling over her face.

He smiled at her. She blinked and looked down at her hand in his and looked back up at him. Perhaps a semblance of understanding crossed her mind; perhaps she wanted to trust him just like how he trusted her; perhaps she read his actions and understood everything. He hoped, that there was a little bit of everything thrown in there for her.

She smiled back at him.

And he thought, as he pulled her in for a hug, he liked the way she made his stomach jump around on the inside.

* * *

"Oy kid, get movin'! The customers need their shit stored and you dozing off in broad daylight ain't helpin' the cause!"

He heaved two boxes onto both his shoulders to the surprise of his co-workers. "Move. Please." They shuffled out of the way and scurried over to grab more boxes themselves. He walked to the truck and dropped the two boxes into the truck bed. Good thing there wasn't any glass in there. Though either way, he would probably just keep quiet about it.

He lowered himself back down. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and saw her, looking up at him with those wine-red-colored eyes of hers. It had been two months already, and he still couldn't look her properly in the eye without feeling an awkward tingle crawl up his spine. "Are you done?" she said. "I finished my load a while ago."

He nodded. "Just put the last two boxes in from my pile. Didn't have any extra loads today. Guess Barrett was feeling nice, since it's the end of the semester and all."

"Do you want to take a break?" She slipped her hand in his. "We can go get some coffee. I'm sure Barrett won't mind." Her hand was warm in his, and it made his face heat up a little. He would blame it on the heat (even in December Midgar could deliver 90 degree heat in the middle of the week), but he had a feeling that it was also a combination of her and the hot sun.

They're sat down inside the cafe, out of the pounding heat and into the cool breeze of the air-conditioned room. She looked up at him and squinted her eyes. "What?" he asked.

"Did you know…your hair kind of reminds me of a duck?"

"So they say." He sighed in mild annoyance. So she did think his hair looked like a duck's butt.

She reached up and ran her hand through his hair. "I like it though."

He looked up and blinked. She was grinning from ear to ear. "Really? A lot of people make fun of me for it all the time."

She shook her head. "They're silly. You should always keep your hair this way." She dropped her hand and leaned forward, resting her chin on her palms. "What do you do to keep it so spiky though?"

He can't help but notice how close her face is, how clear her lips were—

_—poke her on the forehead (what the fuck)_

_Brush her bangs out of the way (okay, you are getting ridiculous)_

_Just smile back (Zack would call me a fucking pansy)_

_Holy crap, boy, quit arguing with me then. Just kiss the damn girl._

—he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. He heard her gasp against his lips, but she doesn't pull away. She reached up and held his face, kissing back, and he could feel her smile underneath his lips.

"… Nothing," he said, grinning, and letting his mouth hover over hers. "My hair just sticks up naturally. Dunno why though."

She laughed and pulled him back down for another kiss.

And he thought to himself as he kissed her back, …_I hope Barrett didn't load up any extra boxes._

* * *

Finished! Whew. I hope that went alright. First time I've touched a fictional character in a long, long, long, long, long time. Not to say that I was every any good at it, but hey. It's pretty good practice. Thanks for reading!


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